


Fall To Freedom

by jaskiersvalley (connorssock)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Blow Jobs, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Exploitation, Famous Jaskier | Dandelion, Found Family, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/jaskiersvalley
Summary: Nilfgaard Ballet terminates Cahir's contract and turns him out into the wilderness of the city on Christmas Day. It's luck and fortune that he manages to walk across the city and find Jaskier's home where the family is about to sit down for a happy meal. Their unexpected guest finds a place for himself in their lives and heart.
Relationships: Aiden/Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Aiden/Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Eskel/Lambert, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Eskel/Lambert, Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 70
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1: Vesemir

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will be told from a different POV as they follow Cahir's path to independence and love.  
> Chapter 1: Vesemir  
> Chapter 2: Jaskier  
> Chapter 3: Geralt  
> Chapter 4: Lambert  
> Chapter 5: Yennefer

A quiet family Christmas was well under way, that year Jaskier had offered to host, his and Geralt’s home more than big enough to have Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert spend the night, even a couple of days if the mood took. It was definitely a perk of having a successful musician as a son in law. Vesemir would have been lying if he’d said he didn’t enjoy aspects of it - especially knowing that Geralt had the security and love he had always craved and deserved. It was almost dinner time, snow had been falling steadily, giving Jaskier his much desired white Christmas and the cosy feeling of the whole family being together in the warmth. They were all doing last minute checks on the food and setting the table when there was a knock on the door. Given that it was probably carollers and Vesemir quite enjoyed them, he volunteered to deal with them with a shout of “I’ll get it!”

Opening the door, he was surprised to see a lone figure in a thin jacket and covered in snow.

“Oh sorry. I thought I’d find Jaskier here.” The man took a step back. “Didn’t mean to disturb your evening. Though, I don’t suppose you know if Jaskier lives nearby?”

Probably a crazy fan and Vesemir puffed up his chest even if the man looked vaguely familiar. He wasn’t going to fall for whatever ploy this was. Unfortunately, Jaskier took that moment to appear by Vesemir’s shoulder.

“Cahir!” Jaskier pushed past Vesemir and pulled the stranger into a hug. “You’re soaked! What are you doing here? We can’t have you catch a cold, Emhyr could string me up by the balls if he thought I let his star get ill! Come on in, come in.”

The confidence and politeness was stripped away as Cahir was dragged inside and he looked nervous all of a sudden. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go. You said if I ever needed a friend-”

“I’m here. Just as I promised.” Jaskier pulled his hand from Cahir shoulder and scowled at how wet it was. “Let’s get you dry and warmed up. Tell me what brings you here on Christmas Day of all days.”

Wanting to make sure Jaskier had everything he needed, Vesemir followed them, grabbing a towel from the airing cupboard and passing it to Cahir.

“My contract got terminated.”

“What?!” Jaskier all but screeched and Vesemir could hear the others freeze and Lambert poked his head around the corner.

“Fringilla had a call scheduled with her aunt who is in hospital. It was during our morning training. So I told her to do the call anyway, we’ll get an extra hour of training in later, after the Christmas party.” Cahir twisted his fingers nervously. “Emhyr disagreed, forbid us to move the hour around. He got mad when he walked into the studio to see Fringilla on a video call with her aunt. I-”Cahir took a shaky breath, “-I told him it was my decision. So he terminated my contract, had all the things Nilfgaard didn’t own packed in a bag and kicked me out.”

The name and the face clicked into place for Vesemir at the mention of Nilfgaard. He’d seen Cahir before, on stage, touted as Nilfgaard’s shining star, a prodigy whose career was underpinned by the training he received from childhood at the renowned ballet school.

“He said I was too old and a liability.” Cahir’s voice came close to breaking. “That I should be lucky anyone would want me and he might take me back as a janitor if I came crawling back.”

There had always been rumours flying around about Nilfgaard and how their dancers were treated. However, nobody had ever come forward to talk about it so they had only ever stayed rumours. Nilfgaard was notorious for closing rank, they took care of their own no matter the cost. Now, faced with the reality of Cahir in Jaskier’s house on Christmas Day, Vesemir feared the rumours were reality. Especially when he looked at the pair of cheap, soaked through shoes Cahir had left in the hallway yet still trailed wet footprints in his wake.

“Why don’t you join us for dinner? Then we’ll figure out what happens next.” He squeezed Cahir’s shoulder. “It’s always better to think on a full stomach.”

Leaving Jaskier to get their surprise guest more comfortable, Vesemir headed for the kitchen where the other three were trying to look like they hadn’t been gossiping.

“Set an extra place, we have a guest.” In typical fashion, Eskel grabbed the requested things and moved to sort the table, knowing that he’d find out more about the newcomer sooner or later. “He’s a fellow dancer, he needs a place to stay for a little while.”

“Sounds like he’s friends with Jaskier. He can stay here for a while if he wants,” Geralt offered. The house was big enough after all, even when Ciri was home.

It had Vesemir nodding in thanks. “See how you get on with him first. He can stay with me for a bit if need be.”

All chatter was cut short by Jaskier appearing with Cahir in tow, looking a little strange in borrowed sweatpants and a hoodie, hair still wet.

“Everyone, this is Cahir,” Jaskier announced. “Cahir, you’ve met Vesemir, that’s my husband Geralt, then there’s Lambert and Eskel.”

Pleasantries exchanged, they all sat down at the table as Geralt brought the food out. There was no missing Cahir’s wide eyed stare. Especially when the tongs were passed around and everyone helped themselves. When Vesemir tried to hand him the tongs, there was hesitation.

“How much am I allowed to take?”

“As much as you want.” Vesemir tried not to let his shattering heart be seen. “I tend to take smaller amounts but go back for more if I want to.”

He didn’t miss the surreptitious glance Cahir sent his plate before copying it exactly and then staring at it like it might betray him. Still, not everything needed to be pointed out, the others would probably notice anyway.

“So, Cahir,” Lambert pointed at him with his fork. “How did you end up here?”

Swallowing quickly, Cahir wiped at his mouth before speaking. “I got a lift to the bus station. Walked from there.”

The bus station was on the other side of town and Jaskier’s house was out in what could basically be called a village beyond the edge of the city. If Vesemir was right, that was a good five hours of walking at least.

“And you just knew where Jaskier lived?” The way Lambert asked was still friendly on the surface but was rather pointed.

Shoulders rising, Cahir shook his head. “I remember him talking about roughly where he lived. That it was near a river, a corner plot and he could hear the cows and at an unlucky prime number. The bus station had a map and I took a guess.”

“Why not call him if he’s such a good friend?” A hissed “Lambert!” from Jaskier went ignored.

“Nilfgaard owned the contract on the phone so they took it back. I didn’t know Jaskier’s number off by heart.” It was all so painfully honest, as if Cahir didn’t even think to lie.

Vesemir had to wonder whether he even knew that he didn’t have to share anything he didn’t want to. There were so many alarm bells going off in his mind over what he was seeing and hearing. He cleared his throat to get his sons’ attention. “We’re glad you could join us for Christmas. Now, why don’t we eat before we starve to death?”

Silence descended around the table as they all focused on eating, occasionally complimenting the chef or asking for something to be passed. It made Vesemir so happy, seeing his family so content and at ease. It had been years of effort to get to where they were but he wouldn’t change a thing if this was the outcome. Of course it didn’t escape his notice that Cahir meticulously copied him, taking extra when he did, passing up on something being offered if Vesemir didn’t take it. That was something they were probably going to have to address if it didn’t settle quickly.

With dinner eventually finished, family tradition was that they’d exchange gifts which was a little awkward with an unexpected guest. It wasn’t like they could quickly nip out and buy him something. Thankfully, Jaskier gave Cahir a soft nudge.

“You look shattered. Shall I make you up a bed?”

Sheepish, Cahir ducked his head. “If it’s no trouble. I can go though and, I don’t know, find a hotel?”

“What kind of friend would I be to turf you out?” Jaskier actually sounded offended. “Come on. You had a shitty day. I’ll even bring you a hot chocolate and a water bottle.”

Vesemir could see the warring enthusiasm and also the uncertainty at the offer of hot chocolate. He gave Cahir’s shoulder a squeeze. “Enjoy it, it’s a treat after a strained day. A one off won’t harm you.”

Nodding, Cahir accepted his words and followed Jaskier once he was back with a mug of steaming hot chocolate. At the last minute, Cahir remembered his manners and turned back from the door. “Night everyone. Thank you for dinner and for letting me stay. And merry Christmas.”

A chorus of replies went up and Cahir turned to scurry after Jaskier. Once back, Jaskier settled by the tree, ready for Eskel to hand out all the gifts. It was a more subdued affair, they were all too aware that they had someone sleeping a few rooms over who had quite literally nothing. Given the fact Cahir had come to Jaskier, someone he met on a job for a few days and then got texting because they got along, it said a lot about available resources.

“I think,” Vesmir murmured as he held a new pair of hand knitted socks, “we can be extra grateful for our luck in life. For having each other and being in a place where we can help others.”

A few mumbles of agreement went up. They were very fortunate and now it was time to pass that fortune on to someone else who needed it.


	2. Chapter 2: Jaskier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cahir learns how to crack eggs and what he is actually worth.

Having Cahir as an unexpected guest kept Jaskier surprisingly busy. The day after turning up on his doorstep, Cahir was up at a time that shouldn’t have even existed if Jaskier was asked. 5am was not a sociable hour, no matter what Geralt said. Which was why, by the time Jaskier stumbled out of the bedroom, Cahir and Geralt were up and in the basement, stretching for cooldown from a session.

“Does Christmas mean nothing to you?” Jaskier whined. “Dancers, I swear. At least Lambert and Eskel know the meaning of a lie in.”

“No they don’t.” There was a smirk on Geralt’s lips. “They just took a different kind of workout this morning.”

The wink had Jaskier groaning and dramatically covering his ears. It didn’t stop him from hearing Cahir’s “they made a pretty good metronome” quip.

Groaning, Jaskier flouced out of the basement with a shriek. “All I wanted to ask was whether you wanted any food!”

By the time the two got up from the basement, Lambert and Eskel were lounging by the table and looking rather pleased with the world at large. Jaskier rolled his eyes and shoved a plate of cookies in the middle for everyone to take. He noted that everyone except Cahir took one.

“Don’t like gingerbread?”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever had it. And-” Cahir fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, “-it’s not lunchtime so I shouldn’t eat.”

Before Jaskier could say anything, Lambert had picked up a cookie and set it in front of Cahir. “They’re good cookies. And fuck the dietary schedule, it’s Christmas, you get to snack.”

Looking at the cookie like it might kill him, Cahir picked it up delicately. He tried not to make it obvious as he sniffed it, eyes widening in wonder before giving it a small nibble.

“Oh. It’s good!” He actually sounded surprised even as he set the cookie back down on the table.

Not understanding, Eskel grabbed himself another two, chomping down on the first one as he watched Cahir. “They are good. The whole cookie is yours.”

There was a slight unease settling around the table as they slowly began to figure out that maybe eating for Cahir wasn’t as easy and natural a process as it was for them.

“Did they not feed you properly in Nilfgaard?” Jaskier blurted out.

“They feed us very well.” The response was automatic. “Three meals a day worked out with a dietician and prepared in the in-house kitchen. Never a need to go anywhere else for food or worry about where the next meal would be coming from. Even on tour, Nilfgaard made sure we were all provided for.”

Which sounded very comfortable but also rather controlling if Jaskier had to give an opinion. However, nobody had asked but that hadn’t ever stopped him before. “Management tried to put me on a strict diet and exercise regime,” he offered, snagging a cookie. “I told them where to shove it. I make music and curate my looks as I want.”

“But you can hide behind hoodies if you’re bloated,” Cahir countered, looking wistfully at the cookie. “We’d be absolutely bollocked if we strayed from the meal plans. I did it once.”

Grinning, Lambert leaned in. “What did you have?”

“A slice of coffee and walnut cake. I still dream of it sometimes even if I thought I might die afterwards. My heart had never raced so fast in my life before!”

It was Geralt who clapped Cahir on the shoulder with a snort. “If you’re not used to caffeine it will do that to you. Was this a recent experiment?”

“About 15 years ago.” There was a soft, wistful laugh from Cahir. “I was probably about 17 at the time.”

Jaskier didn’t say anything but his heart was breaking a little. 15 years to dream about a single slice of cake. There was something monumentally sad about that. He made a note to make sure he took Cahir out on a cake tasting afternoon as soon as shops opened up again. Plus coffee, if that was something that held his interest. Trying to move the conversation on, he grabbed milk from the fridge and brought mugs over too.

“No cookies are perfect without milk!”

The murmur of happy agreement from the others seemed to bolster Cahir’s attack on the cookie and he took another dainty bite. By the time he had worked his way through one cookie, the others were all lounging around in a bit of a food coma, watching Cahir with more or less veiled curiosity.

Lambert couldn’t take it any longer. “Well? Official verdict on gingerbread cookies?”

“Delicious.”

Everyone cheered in unison at the declaration and Cahir looked oddly proud. Jaskier patted him on the shoulder, grateful that they were able to share such a moment. It was the perfect moment for Vesemir to walk in and take in the sight of his family. Turning to him, Jaskier beamed and grabbed the plate with a few more cookies on there.

“Saved you a few.”

“Lies!” Eskel cried. “We just couldn’t eat them all in one sitting. If we had been able to, there wouldn’t be any left.”

“Just as well I made enough for everyone then,” Vesemir shot back with a smile and he ruffled Lambert’s hair as he reached for a cookie. He didn’t miss the awed stare from Cahir.

“You made those?”

Nodding, Vesemir was cut off by Jaskier’s excited babbling. “He did! I taught him the recipe. Why don’t I show you how to make more this afternoon?”

Which was how Cahir found himself in the kitchen in the afternoon, rummaging through unfamiliar cupboards as Jaskier prattled away. The thing was, Jaskier had a lot to say about everything from the eggs and the hens to the ginger and its less than savoury uses which had Cahir blushing from the tips of his ears down his neck and under the neckline of his t-shirt. All that was kind of forgotten in favour of the appalling discovery that Cahir had no idea how to break eggs. It was a travesty and Jaskier had to correct it.

“Just tap it against the rim of the bowl.” A tap and nothing happened. “Harder.” Still nothing. “Give it a good old smack.” Egg went everywhere and Cahir looked absolutely mortified. There was shell in the bowl, yolk running down the outside as well as the inside of the bowl and his hand looked like he’d dipped it into some slime. The giggle that burst out of Jaskier was quickly stifled when he saw just how sad Cahir looked. “We’ll try again. Let me show you.”

As well as cookies, they ended up making floating islands purely because they practiced breaking eggs so much, they couldn’t possibly hope to make so many cookies. Not even with the appetite of Lambert, Eskel and Geralt could they feasibly justify making close to four kilos of cookies.

They sat in front of the oven, watching the cookie dough balls flatten and spread as they baked, licking the bowls clean.

“How often do you take such days off?”

“Days off?” Jaskier was confused. “This is a pretty normal day.”

Brows drawn low in confusion, Cahir tipped his head to the side. “But the others, they dance, right? Don’t they have a schedule to stick to so they don’t lose what they have?”

It was Jaskier’s turn to not quite understand. “I mean sure, they train. But they have lives to live.” Something was sinking in his chest. “How much practice did you have each week?”

The list Cahir reeled off was truly shocking. From stretches to perfecting basics to new routines, every day of the week was devoted to dancing. Evenings were free but by then everyone was usually quite tired, plus the 10pm lights out rule was enforced without hesitation or remorse on all those living at the academy.

“What about birthdays? Or Christmas? Or any other celebration?”

“They’re all just another day. Birthdays we were allowed to choose what music we practiced to for an hour.” Cahir smiled softly, obviously feeling like it was some great indulgence. “Fringilla once asked to dance to 4’33” for her birthday. For the hour we just sprawled on the floor giggling and trying not to break the silence.”

Nodding, Jaskier tried to pretend he understood. He couldn’t imagine not celebrating a birthday. “It sounds lovely. Did you not have cake? Or presents?”

“We had no need. Cake didn’t fit with the diet recommendations and Nilfgaard provided us with everything. We never had need of anything.”

Wisely, Jaskier kept his mouth shut about seeing just what Nilfgaard provided and also took away. He had been nosy and, when Cahir had been taking a shower, snooped in his room. The bag he’d come with had a single change of clothes, a book and a photograph with some Russian on the back. It was probably a family photo of a very young Cahir and his parents. Jaskier had taken a snap of the writing, hoping to find someone to translate it later on. It explained the soft accent Cahir had, nothing obtrusive but certain syllables just seemed to get warped in his mouth.

“Doesn’t your record label look after you?” It was asked with such a genuine, open curiosity and concern that Jaskier didn’t have the heart to monologue about how what Cahir had lived through wasn’t exactly being looked after. Words such as institutionalisation and exploitation flitted through his mind but in the end, Jaskier didn’t say anything of the sorts, surely Cahir would figure it out in the end too.

“They pay me my worth and let me look after myself.”

Oddly, that drew a laugh from Cahir. “If they did that for me, I would have been on the streets within two days.” A confused look sent his way had Cahir looking a bit more sombre. “Emhyr often liked to remind me how much I was worth outside of Nilfgaard. Said he’d paid over the odds for me as it was.”

There was so much wrong with that sentence, Jaskier didn’t know where to start unpicking it. He spluttered a little before managing to press out a faint “How much did he say you’re worth?”

“Two pigs and half an acre. That’s what he paid my parents for me and he sure as shit invested a lot more money after that too. So I guess I’m glad Nilfgaard didn’t pay me what I’m worth because I wouldn’t have survived for long. I know nothing about pigs.”

Speechless, Jaskier could only stare at Cahir, slack jawed. How Cahir could think that this was okay was beyond him. Questions clamoured to be asked and Jaskier struggled to get them out. “You’re worth so much more than that. You made Nilfgaard a shit ton of money. Do you know how much they charged for you to come and do those two days for my music video?”

“I don’t know how much pigs retail for but maybe a quarter of that?”

“Eight grand. Plus we had to supply food, lodging and travel. Those eight grand were for just your time alone. Four hours each day. That’s a grand an hour. Now I don’t know pig prices either but I think you could get a whole pig for an hour’s work.”

Cahir didn’t look convinced. He stared at the oven with a frown. “I guess Nilfgaard had to pay for the building it owns and let us live and practice in, the food, clothes, phone contracts, masseuses, drivers. Anything we asked for, we got. Emhyr always said I was barely worth my keep!”

Turning to give Cahir a sad look, Jaskier watched as agitation won out and he pushed up in one fluid move to pace around the kitchen. “Maybe I was too greedy. Or asked for too much. We were told not to worry about the price of anything, that Nilfgaard invested in us as long as we kept doing shows and taught classes.”

The single change of clothes, one book and one photo sprang to Jaskier’s mind. He didn’t need to say anything as Cahir looked around, helpless and eyes watery. A hand was tangled in his hair.

“You’re wrong. You have to be. Nilfgaard did everything for me since I was nine. I just wasn’t good enough, didn’t follow the rules.”

Silently, Jaskier kept watching, feeling even worse knowing that Nilfgaard had Cahir from such a young age. It explained a lot of things. The cookies were starting to burn but those could wait. Cahir needed to figure this out. “Eight grand, Cahir. For eight hours of work. Most people make one hundred and twenty in that time. And they keep houses, families, cars, phones all running on that. I’m sorry.”

“You’re lying.” It was weak and Jaskier could see the way Cahir’s breath was coming short and tight. “Because if you’re not. You can’t be right. I can’t- I wasn’t-”

Tears began to fall and Jaskier stood up, carefully approaching Cahir and pulling him into a hug as the first sob finally burst out. The cookies were burnt to a crisp but that was the least of Jaskier’s worries.


	3. Chapter 3: Geralt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A New Year's party means meeting new people and Cahir makes a friend.

Having a new person stay in the house was not something Geralt expected to enjoy. He was quite solitary by nature which was a little at odds with his job as a dancer. He, Lambert and Eskel had all started off their careers messing around in the street before finding support and, with Vesemir’s blessing, a schedule that sacrificed some academics in favour of dance practice. While the three of them had a bit of a dane crew thing going on, Vesemir had instilled in them the acceptance of reality. Very few people made it to the top and a more realistic view was that they’d be part of a larger entourage, probably backing dancers. Which was exactly what had happened. It was how they met Jaskier, Geralt had fallen in love and the rest, as they say, was history. Though they’d never intended to profit off Jaskier’s fame, the three of them did get a bit of focus and broke out of the masses with their own video channel. At first people were interested in Jaskier’s new boyfriend (who became his husband) but, of late, their followers were there because they liked their dancing. It wasn’t a singular style, nor did it have the slickness of a production team. Mostly, it was the three of them figuring out a routine, perfecting it then recording it in the dance studio in the cellar. That was good enough for them. Geralt imagined it was a world away from Cahir’s training and ideas of what was good enough.

Such thoughts had Geralt worrying about sharing a dance studio with Cahir who Jaskier had declared was going to live with them until he found his feet in the real world. So there wasn’t much choice but to share. Especially when Cahir appeared on his first morning with them, looking absolutely lost and without purpose. Since then Geralt made a habit of going down to the studio to practice with him which had the added benefit of getting to watch Cahir in his element. Warming up, stretching, basics, old routines, they were all things Cahir flowed through, looking more serene than Geralt had ever seen him outside of the studio. Even more fascinating was the single-minded determination Cahir had for perfecting a move. If he didn’t land as he wanted, wasn’t at quite the right angle or did something Geralt couldn’t even see that was deemed wrong, he would repeat the same motion over and over again until satisfied.

“You okay sharing the studio with the three of us?” Geralt asked.

Cahir looked politely baffled. “It’s your studio, you do what you want. Feel free to chuck me out if you need it.”

As if Geralt would ever throw someone out of the studio. It was plenty big enough for them all. Which was how, three days later Geralt traipsed in with Lambert and Eskel in tow, just in time to see Cahir, up en pointe, one arm behind his back while the other helped pull a leg straight up until he was doing the splits while standing. Lambert’s murmur of “oh fuck me” was seconded by an appreciative hum from Eskel. 

At the disturbance Cahir let go of his leg which dropped a little. He turned to give it a disappointed look, nose wrinkling like his leg had committed the greatest act of betrayal.

“Need me to clear out?”

“Nah,” Eskel drawled. “There’s plenty of room for us all.”

There was indeed plenty of room but Geralt couldn’t help noticing how Cahir moved from active practice to distracted stretching so he could watch them. It wasn’t like the three hadn’t practiced with an audience before so they got on with it, laughing and joking as they warmed up. Not that their actual practice was much different - whether it was Lambert deciding that doing a robot was more fun in the middle of a routine than staying in time with the other two. All through it, Cahir seemed torn between disapproving and wistful whenever Geralt got a look at him.

“Alright, time for a break,” he declared and the other two immediately flopped down onto the ground with a groan. Ignoring them, Geralt turned to Cahir. “Like what you see?”

“It’s certainly different.”

That pulled a bark of a laugh from Lambert as he rolled onto his stomach. “That’s a polite way of saying you hate it.”

Blushing softly, Cahir shook his head. “Not hate, no. I just don’t understand it.”

Which led to Eskel beckoning him over. Trying to teach Cahir one of their more simple routines turned out to be the best and worst decision Geralt had ever made. On one hand Cahir picked up the rhythm with relative ease. On the other hand, he lacked the jagged, stomping motions, turning it all into a fluid motion which was both beautiful and nothing like the intended dance.

“I’m sorry, it just goes against everything I’ve been taught to pull the motions short,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t you teach us your way then?” Eskel asked.

It earned a soft giggle from Cahir. “I’ll have you know, Jaskier told me exactly how much I should charge for such services. But, seeing as you’re pretty, I think I can make an exception.”

Geralt wanted to facepalm. The urge only got stronger when Lambert grinned in enthusiasm, seemingly more than okay that his boyfriend was being flirted with. That was another thing that took Geralt by surprise, he hadn’t expected Cahir to know what flirting was, let alone indulge in it himself since he had lived such a sheltered life. Alas, it seemed that Cahir had game. It became even more evident as they started working together, Cahir showing them where a transition could be smoother. Geralt could only describe the other three as handsy in a way none of them were with him. He just had to hope it didn’t end in heartache and tears.

Thankfully it didn’t. While the three flirted, there was no push to take things further. At least, not yet. For all their idiocy, it seemed that Lambert and Eskel were capable of being perfect gentlemen and also recognised that maybe a relationship wasn’t what Cahir needed to be getting into when he’d only just started exploring the world on his own terms. Oddly, Geralt felt protective of Cahir. Despite being close in age, Geralt found that Cahir felt a lot younger, even if his jokes were filthy.

New Year’s parties were a thing Geralt endured for the sake of Jaskier. His husband was a social creature and also needed to be seen in certain places at certain times. As Jaskier went, Geralt went and that usually meant Lambert and Eskel tagging along too. This time Cahir was in tow too, Jaskier managing to snag an extra invite for him without any real effort. The perks of being famous.

“If you need anything, just let me know,” Geralt said to Cahir as they walked through the entrance of the club. “Don’t accept drinks from a stranger, stay within sight at all times.”

Behind him Lambert and Eskel were snickering which turned into loud, unabashed laughter when Cahir gripped Geralt’s shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes with a serious “yes dad”. So maybe Geralt was fussing but he’d rather do that than come across as not caring at all.

It was a proper party, people dancing, others sitting around the edge of the room, sipping on drinks and chatting. As soon as they were noticed Jaskier was swarmed and a few people greeted Geralt too. He did his best to be polite, all the while trying to keep Cahir in sight. At first, he seemed to stick close to Lambert and Eskel, looking around with interest. People were drifting over for a chat, recognising them from various performances. For a little while Geralt’s attention was taken up with talking, Mousesack had appeared out of nowhere and pulled him into a one armed hug. By the time Geralt looked around again, Lambert and Eskel were by the bar but Cahir was gone. Thankfully, he was easy to spot, smiling softly at a guy Geralt hadn’t seen before. They seemed to be getting on okay, Cahir even had a drink in his hand which, shockingly, he passed to the other guy who drank without hesitation. So much for the warning about not accepting drinks from strangers.

Again, Geralt couldn’t keep an eye on Cahir for a stretch. The party was getting busy as midnight approached. Finally, he managed to get himself a reprieve from all the people and slumped against the bar next to Lambert who was drinking a beer and seeming to be greatly enjoying himself in Eskel’s company.

“Why did you ditch Cahir?” Geralt asked and got twin snorts in return.

“Don’t worry, we’re keeping an eye on him,” Eskel said and nodded towards the side of the room.

Lambert leered. “I’m keeping both on him.”

By the wall, Cahir looked a little worse for wear, shirt unbuttoned to Jaskier levels of indecent, and he was talking to the man Geralt had seen him with earlier. Whatever he was saying was obviously the right thing because his hand was allowed to trail across the man’s collarbone and down his sternum suggestively.

Geralt squinted. “Are they-”

“Just watch!” Lambert cut him off.

Sure enough, the man tipped his head up and silenced Cahir mid sentence with a kiss. Only, Cahir seemed far too happy with the turn of events, not even hesitating to deepen the kiss and slip a hand to the back of the other man’s neck, pulling them closer. If Geralt wasn’t mistaken that was also a thigh sliding between legs as Cahir took complete control.

“What are we watching?” Jaskier asked as he arrived, gaze following the direction of the other three. “Oh. Oh! Good for him.” He fixed Geralt with a stare. “The countdown’s starting soon. I do hope I get my kiss this year.”

Grumbling, Geralt tugged Jaskier against his side. “Don’t wander off then. Not my fault I couldn’t find you in time last year.”

Next to them, Lambert and Eskel seemed quite content watching Cahir while chatting with each other. There was definitely a hint of jealousy mixed in with appreciation. Geralt had to agree with them, Cahir had managed to snag himself an exceptionally attractive guy. The countdown seemed to be lost on them as they kissed, ignoring the rest of the world around them. Geralt did the same as his kiss with Jaskier turned into something more than a peck, the cheering around them fell away. By the time Geralt resurfaced, Cahir was stumbling towards them, a hand wrapped around his new friend’s wrist.

“Lambert!” A cheery drunk it seemed and Geralt gave Jaskier a squeeze to keep him quiet. “This is Aiden. Can we put his number in your phone? I don’t have one yet.”

Looking more amused, Lambert pulled his phone out and obligingly handed it over.

“My year is off to a great start already,” Aiden drawled. “Giving my number to a very handsome man so another gorgeous guy can keep in touch.”

Geralt had to laugh at that and turned to Jaskier to hide his amusement. However, while Aiden was entering his number, Geralt had a chance to check in with Cahir.

“What did you drink?”

“Tea.” Which was utter bullshit and Geralt was about to get rather indignant at the fact that Cahir had been fed lies about his drink.

A hand on Cahir’s shoulder drew his attention back to Aiden. “Sweetheart, you had Long Island Iced Tea.”

Eyes big and trusting, Cahir nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Tea.”

“You’re such a lightweight.”

Geralt had to laugh in agreement before something occurred to him. “Cahir-” he called, “-have you actually had alcohol before?”

A head shake turned into a small stagger and a giggle. He was caught by Aiden who was looking at him in almost awe. “Well fuck, babe. You should have said! I would have got you your own drink of choice rather than share mine.”

Oddly, Geralt approved. He watched as the words seemed to go completely over Cahir’s head as he snagged Aiden’ by the wrist. “We should dance.”

Just like that, the two were disappearing into the crowd of dancers and Geralt watched as Lambert and Eskel followed their path, eyes dark. They were an absolutely shameless pair, so certain in their love of each other, they were happy to invite others into their relationship.

For a few minutes there was peace. Geralt could wrap an arm around Jaskier and focus on his husband. Innocent kisses and whispered declaration of making the year a good one, filled with love were exchanged. The little bubble they had was broken by Eskel’s awed “holy shit”.

Looking up, Geralt had to agree. Cahir had managed to get Aiden’s back flush against his chest, hands indecently framing Aiden’s crotch as he guided their hips in a slow circle, following the flow of the music. His lips were moving against the shell of Aiden’s ear and, judging by Aiden’s expression, he was making some filthy promises. As the song changed to something more upbeat, they both spun and Cahir dropped down before slowly all but sliding up along Aiden’s body, back arching.

“That’s not ballet,” Lambert murmured and Geralt had to laugh. It was not ballet at all.

The happy couple ended up pressed against a wall, dancing forgotten in favour of messily making out. Geralt decided it was time to intervene before drunken antics became sober regrets. Thankfully Jaskier seemed to be in agreement even if Lambert was of the opinion they should let Cahir have his fun.

“He can have his fun when he’s not drunk for the first time. And you’re not drooling over the free show.”

“Yep, time to be responsible,” Eskel piped up, eyes glued to Cahir and the way his hand had slipped down Aiden’s chest, over his stomach and dipped into his trousers.

“Cahir,” Geralt called as he approached. As if he’d been burned, Cahir pulled away, looking guilty. “We’re going home.”

The longing look Cahir sent Aiden wasn’t followed up by any protests or a request that Aiden go home with them. Instead, Cahir stepped back with a resigned nod. He looked visibly panicked when Aiden grabbed his arm and pulled him back in for one final kiss.

“I’ll drop you a message. Go out for a coffee if you’d like.”

Shy, Cahir smiled and blushed, biting his lip. “I’d like that.” The worried glance he shot the others had something in Geralt’s chest twist.

It was Jaskier who resolved matters. “Well, I’ll get Cahir a phone tomorrow. You can message Lambert’s number in the meantime. Just nothing lewd because he will show Eskel and they will enjoy it shamelessly.”

Even in the half darkness Geralt could see Eskel flush but neither he nor Lambert denied it. In fact, Lambert went as far as to say, “We’re not blind. And our hearts are big.”

Suddenly, Geralt had a sinking feeling he might know where all of this was heading. If everyone was in agreement, they were going to need to buy an even bigger bed - as if the monstrosity Lambert and Eskel had bought wasn’t already a decadent size.

Ushering them all out the car, Geralt wasn’t the least bit surprised to look in the mirror and see Cahir passed out within moments of sitting down. At least he wasn’t at the throwing up stage of drunk. So maybe Aiden wasn’t as bad as he’d initially feared.

In the morning, Cahir stumbled into the studio looking much worse for wear than usual. He blinked at Geralt, a little green and obviously queasy.

“No lie in?”

Cahir shook his head. “Unless it’s one of the three S’s; sprain, strain or a spray of bodily fluids, training goes on like planned.”

“And if you look ready to puke your guts up?”

Sitting down to stretch, Cahir shrugged. “I’ve not eaten anything. Nothing to spray so it’s all good.”

Dubious, Geralt sat down next to him, going through his own stretches. “You could take it easy, you know. Give yourself some slack to actually enjoy life.”

The stare of polite bafflement from Cahir almost hurt. “What else would I do? Dancing’s the only thing I know.”

“Was there nothing else you enjoyed at school?”

“School?” There was an incredulous laugh at that. “I grew up in a ballet academy. We had dance lessons, etiquette and PR lessons, I can talk eloquently about the history of ballet and any number of dance pieces. I understood ballet instructions in English before anything else. They didn’t bother teaching me English, I learned all that in free time from the other students.” Cahir looked a little agitated, smiling but there was no mirth to it. “My whole life was ballet, I don’t even have basic qualifications.”

It certainly explained the soft accent that Cahir still had. Geralt had no idea what to say to it. There was nothing he could do to make it better, the past was one thing he couldn’t change. The future though…”If you wanted to study now, you could. We’d support you.”

That was obviously not the response Cahir was expecting. His jaw snapped shut, eyes wide. Turning back to his stretches, it looked like he was done with the conversation. At least, Geralt thought so until he heard a soft “Thank you but this is all too much right now. Everything has changed. I need the comfort of just dancing. It’s the only thing I know with certainty right now.”

They could do that for now. Geralt stayed quiet and to his side of the studio, watching as Cahir meticulously worked his way through set pieces until his muscles were shaking and sweat made his vest top cling to his chest. He only stopped when Lambert entered, brandishing a box while waving at him.

“Got you this.” The box was unceremoniously shoved towards Cahir’s chest. “It’s got Aiden’s number in there. Plus mine and Eskel’s. We wouldn’t mind if you wanted to hang out and stuff.”

He left with a wink at Cahir and Geralt had to roll his eyes. So Aiden was competition of sorts. The race for Cahir’s heart was on.


	4. Chapter 4: Lambert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems lifting a partner has a very specific effect on the local idiots. Also, Nilfgaard called. They want their ballerino back.

Dancing with Cahir was something Lambert had a huge amount of fun with. Not just because he got to spend time and flirt with Cahir and Eskel. It was actually also really fulfilling and something he learned a lot from. The control Cahir had over his body, translating that into smooth movements was stunning. And then Cahir had to go and lift him. They’d talked about it but Lambert, being the lightest of the three, had been lifted before so he was eager to try it. Geralt and Eskel stood on either side, ready to assist if anything went wrong. Lambert took a few steps back to give a bit of momentum to the move. One moment he was hurrying towards Cahir and the next he was arcing through the air, muscles tight and arms out. It only lasted a few seconds before Cahir was setting him down but they’d done it. Elated, Lambert let out a whoop and, not thinking, kissed Cahir on the lips.

Like a bucket of cold water had been poured on them, the whole studio went silent and Cahir stepped away, fingers chasing the echo of Lambert’s lips on his. Guiltily, his eyes flickered towards Eskel. Lambert wasn’t looking at Eskel though, he was more concerned with Cahir’s and Geralt’s reactions - mostly Geralt’s in case he decided to cluck like a mother hen. Thankfully, he stayed silent and just watched which left Lambert free to sidle up to Eskel, brushing their shoulders together.

“Guess we should have a chat?”

For perhaps the first time in his life, Geralt took initiative and did the right thing. After a questioning nod to Cahir he left. It meant the three of them were alone in the studio, Cahir looking on edge. Eskel smiled and plopped down onto the floor where he was, patting it for the others to sit too.

“I won’t bite, I promise.”

Cahir didn’t seem convinced. “But the kiss? I shouldn’t have- I mean, he’s yours-”

Eskel laughed at that which didn’t help matters much. “Lambert is his own man. I’m just lucky enough to call him my partner. But we’re not blind. Nor do we object to having more than each other to love.”

Finally, Cahir sat down but he was still tense, ready to bolt. Thankfully Lambert had the sense to sit down next to Eskel and give him some space. “What we’re saying is, if you’re okay with it then so are we.”

The door to the studio opened quietly and Jaskier wandered in, a small smile on his lips as he settled down next to Cahir.

“Geralt mentioned you might need a bit of help and he’s useless at this kind of thing.”

Trying not to scowl, Lambert reminded himself that this was for Cahir, not out of a worry that he and Eskel would do something heinous. So he bit his tongue and twisted to snag his phone from the pile of clothes on the side. Just because Cahir had gotten Aiden’s number didn’t mean he hadn’t stayed in touch with Aiden too - the guy was funny and good looking, Eskel agreed too. So he was just as involved in this conversation really. The whole thing was dependent on what Cahir wanted as to how this played out. As he typed, he kept half an ear on the conversation.

“Did you mind that Lambert kissed you?”

A soft, sad “no” was barely audible.

“Would you want him to do that again?”

Out of the corner of his eyes Lambert saw a small nod which had him grinning until Cahir spoke up again. “Is this normal for friends?”

“Do you want to kiss all of your friends?” Jaskier turned the question back on Cahir, looking so patient and indulgent.

“I’ve kissed Aiden.”

Which was not quite the answer and Jaskier, the greatest hero of them all, wasn’t accepting any half-arsed bullshit. “Am I your friend?” A nod. “And do you want to kiss me?” Cahir shook his head. “What about Geralt?” Another headshake. “Vesemir?” A more vehement shake and a scrunched nose which had Jaskier laughing. “Well then. It seems you have a big heart. Lambert and Aiden are at home in there. But what about Eskel?”

The shy, timid look Cahir sent Eskel had Lambert’s heart melting. Even more so when it was accompanied by the smallest nod ever seen. It all boded well. The moment was broken by the aggressive vibrating of a phone receiving a call. Scrambling, Cahir pulled it from the pocket of his hoodie and stared at it.

“It’s Aiden.” He was nervous, eyes big and breath catching in his throat.

“Pick it up.” Lambert knew exactly what was coming, he had been the one to give Aiden a heads up, figuring he ought to be part of the conversation too. Sure enough, after a soft, almost shy “hello” Cahir was putting his phone onto speaker and setting it down in between them all.

For a moment nobody spoke so Lambert took it on himself to cut to the chase. “I kissed Cahir.”

“You lucky bastard.” Despite his words, Aiden’s voice was full of mirth. “How you feeling about that Cahir?”

Stumped, Cahir looked between Lambert, Eskel and his phone. Watching him nervously wet his lip, Lambert wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a reassuring hug. It was all going to be okay.

When there was no audible response from Cahir, Jaskier picked up. “I think he’s a little overwhelmed right now. I assume you called with purpose, given how Lambert has been texting less than subtly.”

He valiantly ignored the way Lambert stuck his tongue out and grumbled at being called out like that. This was an important conversation and Aiden needed to be involved.

“Alright.” Aiden laughed a little and Lambert found himself grinning. “So, we met at the New Year’s party, right? And I don’t think I made any secret of finding you very attractive and wanting to get to know you better.” Cahir actually hummed in agreement at that. “And, give the way our texts and calls have gone, you’re not opposed to it either.”

The blush that burst across Cahir’s cheeks and down his neck intrigued Lambert. He could only guess what those messages and calls had contained and he found he approved. Before his imagination could go gallivanting off, Aiden continued.

“Now, while I’ve been chatting to you, I’ve also stayed in touch with Lambert and Eskel.” There was a pause and Cahir looked torn.

“I won’t stand in the way,” he said eventually and Lambert had to roll his eyes. “I understand how these things work.”

Obviously he didn’t and Aiden seemed to be in agreement with Lambert on that thought. “Do you though? Because what I’m trying to say is, if you want, the four of us could go on a date.”

Finally the ball dropped and Cahir’s jaw was slack with surprise. He squeaked and slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise.

After a moment Aiden spoke again. “Hello? You all still there? Did I just break him?”

“Still here,” Jaskier laughed. “I can see the cogs are turning. Just give him a minute to process.”

“When you say date-” Cahir finally said, eyes on Lambert and Eskel, “-do you mean to assess our social and sexual compatibility?”

Not quite the words Lambert would have used but he nodded while both Eskel and Aiden were busy trying to verbally confirm that it was indeed what they had in mind. The pleased, happy little smile coupled with a shy dip of chin to hide was only made better by the soft but certain “I would really like that” which had Lambert whooping and launching to tackle Cahir into another hug.

Setting up a date was easier than anticipated. They could all agree on going to a bar but they wouldn’t drink. For a first date they all wanted to be sober. And, if Lambert was honest with himself, he wanted to see where the evening took them. Given how Aiden and Cahir already seemed quite comfortable around each other, he had high hopes.

They all piled into a booth, Lambert pressed up under Eskel’s arm, while Cahir and Aiden faced them. Though Aiden looked loose and relaxed, there was a certain measure of guarded tension holding Cahir back. That just wouldn’t do and Lambert’s foot sought out his for a fond nudge.

“You’re looking more tense than the first time I decided to ride Esk.”

“You were allowed to do that?” Not the response Lambert was expecting in the slightest, especially not the awed surprise Cahir seemed to hold.

Scoffing, Lambert frowned. “Yeah? I mean, we both wanted it and can you blame me? Have you seen Eskel? I wanted to climb him like a tree for so long.”

Something was obviously not computing in Cahir’s head as he looked between them. “Did your management not have rules against such things, especially with another dancer?”

Dread was settling in Lambert’s stomach as he tried to figure out where this conversation was going. He didn’t want to be right and, judging by Aiden’s expression, he was rapidly arriving at a similar conclusion. Almost scared to answer, Lambert was grateful when Eskel took it on himself to carefully answer.

“Not really, no. We can have any bed partner we please, however we want. Though we are reminded to be mindful of big performances.”

Eyes wide in wonder, Cahir looked at them. Which made Aiden open his mouth, “Guessing Nilfgaard had opinions on such things.”

“Yeah,” Cahir nodded. “When I said they took care of everything, I did mean it literally.” The three listened in almost horrified silence. “Every two weeks we were allowed an approved companion for the night. Nilfgaard paid of course but they were under strict rules about positions, kinks and penetration. If they broke the rules they were blacklisted and reported to the authorities for prostitution.”

“Wait.” Eskel actually croaked, voice lost in disbelief. “Nilfgaard hired prostitutes for you?”

“Yes.” Lambert wanted to go and burn Nilfgaard down. There was fucked up and there was what Cahir was telling them. Not even a bad horror movie could think to do such a thing. The silence was interpreted as an invitation to go on. “There’s a lot that they could teach.”

“I bet,” Aiden snorted.

They were all a little uncomfortable and Cahir dropped his gaze to his drink. “This is another not so normal thing, isn’t it?”

Doing his best to salvage the moment, Lambert shrugged. “I guess it depends on what you learned.” He winked to try and bolster the mood but Cahir didn’t seem to quite take the bait.

“I mean, I guess I learned how to suck cock and deepthroat properly. After all, I didn’t need a voice to dance. But Zoltan also taught me to read and write.”

There was so much going on in those few sentences that Lambert didn’t even know where to start. He instead reached across the table and took Cahir’s hands in his in silent support.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what your life with Nilfgaard was like,” Aiden said carefully, “but that’s pretty fucked up.”

“They banned Zoltan for it when they caught wind. He was hired to relieve sexual tension, not to fill my head with unnecessary stories.”

Eskel cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Something was clearly on his mind and Lambert leaned into him to give him support. Under the table he tangled one leg with Aiden and one with Cahir like a stretched octopus. This wasn’t at all how they had anticipated the date to go.

“Just so I am clear,” Eskel finally said, “Nilfgaard hired you prostitutes who you could fuck or suck off but weren’t allowed to be penetrated by. And one of these prostitutes taught you how to read and write because Nilfgaard didn’t want you to.”

Nodding, Cahir cast a guarded look at the others, obviously feeling rather alienated.

With a sigh Eskel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Does that mean you’d rather always top with us too?”

“Oh no!” Cahir looked a little aghast. “I love cock! Prefer giving a good blowjob to fucking someone actually. Plus Zoltan showed me a trick with his finger once.” His cheeks turned red at the memory. “It was one of the last times I saw him.”

The open way in which Cahir declared his preferences was both endearing and tragic. Lambert wanted to gather him in his arms and promise him the world. Alas he knew that he would be no better than Nilfgaard if he coddled Cahir. The man had enough people controlling him up until now, he really needed to make his own mistakes and find the balance of his freedom. Helpless rage almost had Lambert flipping the table. This was turning into something so much more complex than anticipated and not even for the reasons they had expected.

Aiden sounded unconvinced and he circled the rim of his glass with a finger “Going back to the whole unable to read thing-”

“I can read, I’m not stupid!” Cahir interrupted. “I could read and write Russian from an early age. It’s not my fault you have weird letters. Zoltan helped make sense of them.”

Which, if anyone had bothered to ask Lambert, was almost worse. Cahir had been plucked from his home and transported essentially into an alien world where the only thing he understood was dancing. For all the jokes out there about communicating through the medium of interpretive dance, Lambert had a sinking feeling it was actually a very real thing for Cahir. He couldn’t stomach it.

“I have so much respect for you,” Aiden grumbled. “You went through so much shit and came out the other end a better man than any of us could hope to ever be.”

“I’m probably better a sucking dick than any of you,” Cahir shot back, trying his best to lighten the mood.

“And lifting,” Lambert hopped onto the idea of talking about what Cahir was good at. “No offense Eskel.”

Shaking his head, Eskel managed a small smile. “None taken. Someone who can be lifted is bound to be better. I don’t know what it should feel like so I’m only learning blindly and by rote.”

It was Cahir’s turn to look surprised as he gave Eskel a careful once over. “You’ve never been lifted?”

“Have you seen me? No one can lift someone my size.”

Which was met by Cahir giving him a long look. “Stand up.”

There was a lot of hesitation in Eskel but he did as told. Lambert watched in fascination as Cahir stood too. It couldn’t be that Cahir was going to lift Eskel then and there. However, Cahir stepped closer and murmured something in Eskel’s ear. After a nod, he wrapped arms around him and hefted him up while Eskel valiantly tried not to squeal and flail. His cheeks were flushed and eyes dark as Cahir set him down and shrugged.

“If you can get us a swimming pool for an hour, I can lift you.”

There was no missing how Eskel looked a little dazed and flustered. It had Lambert smirking. That night he had Eskel hogtied on their bed and Lambert fucked into him while talking about how beautifully Cahir’s muscles worked as he lifted Eskel up. He grinned through Eskel’s rather spectacular climax, relishing in how predictable Eskel’s kinks were and that he knew exactly how to exploit them.

Hiring a decent swimming pool for an hour was surprisingly easy - especially when they knew Jaskier. The biggest snag was finding a time that suited them all. Aiden had the most rigid schedule with his radio show but they finally found an afternoon that suited them all. Lambert was the one to drive them there and he valiantly didn’t say anything when he realised Cahir couldn’t drive. That was going to be a whole new discussion with probably a lot of anger and heartbreak for Lambert before he could offer to show Cahir the basics.

They met Aiden in the lobby of the gym complex and traipsed in. Once in the changing rooms, Lambert gave silent thanks to Jaskier who had obviously kitted Cahir out with his swimming outfit. The tighter trunks looked infuriatingly good on him.

“You can actually swim, right?” Lambert asked as they approached the pool. He got a withering glare in response and could only watch as Cahir took a graceful dive into the deep end. Lambert called after him when he surfaced, “Zoltan?”

“Nah, he taught me dancing outside of ballet. Swimming is one of the best exercises for injury recovery. Nilfgaard had us all learn. Usually we had a couple of hours of swimming scheduled each week.”

At least that explained Cahir’s dancing at the party. However that wasn’t what Lambert wanted to focus on. He was much more excited at the prospect of them all getting gloriously wet and then the delight of seeing Eskel be lifted. What was unfair though was that no matter what Cahir did, he always looked so graceful. Swimming was one of those sports that Lambert never quite saw the appeal of, there was nothing sexy about smacking and kicking through water in an effort to be faster. Of course Cahir had to prove him wrong. They did a couple of laps to gently warm up, Cahir and Aiden were out front and Lambert looked behind him to check on Eskel who wasn’t usually so slow. However, the smirk Eskel sent him was one that explained it all. It was an idea Lambert found himself agreeing with heartily and partially why he was behind Cahir and Aiden too.

“Alright,” Cahir called when they were about waist deep in the water. “You want to give this a go?”

Lambert and Aiden moved to the shallowest part of the pool, content to watch as Cahir talked Eskel through the process and a few pointers to bear in mind. Once in agreement, Eskel took a few steps back, Cahir adjusted his posture and nodded. Two steps and Eskel was up, out of the water, too rigid for a few precious seconds before he let out a squeal, legs kicking in a mild panic. As they toppled over, Cahir managed to twist at the last moment so they crashed into the water side by side. Standing up, Eskel was already making excited noises, even as he wiped water from his face vigorously. Much more sedate, Cahir pushed his hair out of his face and blinked at Eskel. The question he was about to ask was silenced as Eskel bundled in, kissing him without hesitation.

“Seems lifting elicits a natural kissing response,” Aiden snickered as he watched. His eyes were glued to the pair now making out, Eskel’s hands cupping Cahir’s cheeks, urging him to keep going. “Maybe I should ask to try a lift next.”

Eskel turned with a grin in their direction and beckoned them with one finger. It became a bit of a game which got more and more difficult as they progressed. Because they somehow decided as a collective that in order to get a kiss from Cahir, they needed to be lifted first. That didn’t mean that while Aiden was up in the air or kissing Cahir silly, Lambert and Eskel weren’t making out. Which led to a minor disaster in the form of Lambert getting hard and his swimming trunks doing nothing to hide it. As Cahir lifted him, there was no missing it and he laughed, concentration broken. With a sharp “oh shit” Lambert cashed into the water on top of Cahir.

Not two seconds later they were up again, coughing and spluttering, all while Cahir was snickering. He snagged Lambert as soon as he could and pulled him in for a kiss. However, this time Cahir didn’t let up, pushing them until Lambert’s back hit the edge of the pool.

“Hop up,” he ordered softly. The water was just the right level that Cahir could stand between Lambert’s legs, lips pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh. “Did you know it’s dangerous to try and learn such moves when distracted.”

“Maybe you should help Lambert out,” Eskel called. He and Aiden were leaning against the wall of the pool a little way up and watching the scene unfold. “After all, if it’s dealt with, he won’t be distracted and all will be safe again.”

Grinning, Cahir’s eyes flashed up to Lambert’s. “I do like Eskel’s logic. Will you let me?”

His hands trailed up Lambert’s thighs, stopping just shy of the waistband to his swimming trunks.

“We better be safe than sorry,” Lambert purred with a nod. He helped lift his hips as Cahir slid his shorts off, leaving his cock to proudly jut up as it was freed. Somehow, with all of Cahir’s sheltered innocence, Lambert had been expecting some tentative and shy touches. Instead he let out a strangled gasp as Cahir wasted no time in swallowing him to the root, throat warm and tight around the head of Lambert’s cock. What followed was, without a doubt, the best blowjob of Lambert’s life. He was helpless to do anything but try and keep the noise to a minimum, leaning back on quaking arms as he watched Cahir.

“Is this how we get banned from here?” Aiden muttered to Eskel.

Any other time Lambert would have laughed but he was too busy biting back on any noise even as Cahir moaned around his cock. Glancing up he caught sight of Eskel and Aiden kissing, hands roaming over wet skin. It was enough to have Lambert letting out a sharp cry and double over as he came, almost pained gasps escaped him as Cahir worked him through it, tongue licking over the sensitive, leaking head. With one last swallow Cahir pulled back, eyes dark and gaze heavy.

“Told you I suck dick well.”

“Holy shit,” Lambert managed to mutter. “That was-” not wanting to be rude, he cleared his throat and tried again, “Give me a minute and I’ll return the favour.”

He didn’t miss the way Cahir’s blush deepened, it was across his cheeks, down his neck and his chest. The small shake of the head had Lambert puzzled.

“I really enjoy sucking dick.” The emphasis on the ‘really’ had Lambert’s eyes widening.

“That is so fucking hot.” It made him wish he could get hard again. “But also probably not good for the swimming pool. We should probably make a quiet exit.”

The other two were watching them and grinning. There was no shame in Eskel as he got out, cock still very noticeably at half mast. In the changing room they all piled into one large booth and Cahir wasted no time in dropping to his knees to pull Eskel’s trunks down. It gave Lambert the perfect opportunity to sit down and pull Aiden into his lap, back to chest. While his hand slipped into Aiden’s swimwear, they got to watch Cahir as he enthusiastically took Eskel between his lips. Lambert was intimately familiar with Eskel, knew exactly how big he was and what it felt like on his tongue. Yet it seemed that Cahir had no trouble or concern as he pressed his nose into the thatch of Eskel’s hair, eyes closed in bliss. If Lambert had thought he had come fast, he was forever going to gloat over the fact that Eskel lost it quicker than him. As Cahir looked up at Eskel, eyes big and dark, he slowly pulled off his cock, tongue working along the underside. Eskel cursed, hand fisted in Cahir’s hair as he came. Thankfully Aiden wasn’t too far behind, whining as he watched Cahir swallow.

The mood in the changing room was one of lazy, sated pleasure. Eskel pulled Cahir up and kissed him, licking the taste of himself and Lambert from his mouth. It left Lambert to nuzzle against Aiden’s neck happy to just laze. A soft chuckle left his chest and Aiden hummed in question.

“I just didn’t think our first time as a quad would be in a swimming pool. Somehow I thought it would involve a bed.”

Done with exploring Cahir’s tonsils, Eskel pulled away to laugh and fix Lambert with an amused stare. “Where you went wrong was assuming anything about us will be conventional. Need I remind you of our first time?”

“I still think it’s why Roach hates me so much.”

Slowly they set about getting dressed. Lambert wandered off to wash his hand before anything else. By the time he returned, the others were in various states of dressed. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Cahir was ready, a phone held to his ear. It was impossible to miss the way he stiffened and his eyes went distant as he listened. Concern only grew for him as he pulled the phone away, hand shaking a little.

“Cahir?” Lambert stepped closer, uncaring that he was still in his damp swimwear. The other two were looking at him too now, concern evident on their faces.

“Um. It’s Emhyr.” More words were obviously eluding Cahir. Instead, he tapped on his phone and the voicemail merrily announced he had one saved message. He hit play.

“Hello Cahir,” a deep voice that sounded like poison laced dagger coated in velvet said. “You’ve had your little adventure, it is time to come home. Nilfgaard can forgive this transgression but you will still be penalised and a note made on your file. It’s most disappointing to have you of all people do this. A car will be by to pick you up at seven this evening.”

The message ended but all four of them stared at the phone as if it would burst into flames.


	5. Chapter 5: Yennefer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nilfgaard plays dirty.

Her afternoon tea being interrupted by the incessant ringing of her phone was not how Yennefer had planned her day to go. Seeing the number made her frown even more.

“This better be good, Lambert,” she said as she picked up.

It wasn’t good. In fact it was pretty shit. From what Lambert had said, they were going to need probably not just her skills but also Triss’ at the least. However, first things first, she was about to have four rather panicked idiots descend on her home. They were going to need some tea.

By the time the tea was cooling and Yennefer had set out a bowl of trail mix, there were two cars pulling up outside. She watched them from the window as the four men huddled together before approaching the door. Right on cue, the bell rang.

“Shoes on the rack, coats on the hooks. Come to the living room when you’re ready.”

She checked her incense, satisfied it was still gently releasing a pleasant scent into the room and settled on the sofa. There was enough space for the others to sit on the armchairs and beanbags. None of them were probably brave enough to sit on the sofa with her. She was right. Cahir and Aiden ended up on the beanbags, Aiden comfortably settled in while Cahir tried to delicately perch on it without much success.

“So, start from scratch. Tell me what’s the issue.”

After some hesitation, Cahir pulled his phone and played the message as if that would explain everything. It didn’t and Yennefer watched the four before breaking the silence. “So what’s the problem?”

“Don’t be obtuse, witch,” Lambert snapped. “You damn well know Cahir’s story.”

“I do. But I’m not a mind reader. So I ask again; what’s the problem?”

After a moment Cahir blurted out, “I don’t want to go back.” He looked up at Yennefer with large eyes. “I watched Emhyr tear up my contract.”

Somehow Yennefer doubted it was the actual contract but she nodded along for now. Given what she knew of Nilfgaard, they weren’t so stupid as to tear up a real contract. However, before she dived in, she needed to make sure Cahir knew what he was talking about.

“You don’t go back, they will try to destroy you. You probably won’t ever dance again. No more luxuries, no more travelling the world, no more doing what you love and making a living from it. You understand that, right?”

The others watched as Cahir looked down, lower lip caught between his teeth. His eyes flickered to the three he arrived with before nodding. “I go back, I lose everything I’ve gained out here. I don’t want to be a circus monkey anymore. My life is mine to live.”

So far the determination was holding. Yennefer had to admire that but she worried that when things got rough, Cahir would regret his choices. Giving up a life where everything was provided for and easy wasn’t a simple thing. But maybe he got lucky and the support network that had formed around him was enough. It would also mean Yennefer and Triss might be able to do something a lot of people had been wanting to for a while. She was taking down Nilfgaard.

The first step was to get Triss involved. A quick call to her and she arrived not an hour later, by which point the four were a little more comfortable. In fact, after all the stress and, by the sounds of it, the strenuous activity of lifting Eskel, Cahir seemed to be drooping.

“You’ll need to stay here,” she told Cahir. I don’t know how Emhyr knows where you were staying but this is as safe as you’ll get probably.”

Those were famous last words because at 7pm a car with tinted windows showed up outside. It waited and waited then, at ten past, Cahir’s phone rang.

“Don’t pick up.” Triss shook her head and helped pull the phone out of reach to reduce temptation. It vibrated on the table loudly, merrily displaying that a private number was calling.

“Remind me how you know all this?” Aiden asked, looking at the two women.

“I’m Jaskier’s lawyer,” Yennefer said. “We met through Geralt.”

“More like you both fucked Geralt.” It wasn’t a barb as such from Lambert. He held a grudge to an extent because Yennefer and Geralt had hurt each other. But they’d figured out a happy balance and now they were all on good terms.

It was prime time for Triss to intervene. “We’re senior partners at Aretuza Law.”

The car pulled away and they all sighed in relief. It was short lived when an unmarked police car appeared, lights flashing, followed by a private ambulance. Even worse, a bunch of paparazzi trailed in, focusing on the house.

“Stay away from all windows.” Yennefer looked furious as she pulled the curtains to. No sooner had she said that than there was a loud, firm knock on the door. “Stay out of sight. Triss, call Renfri to check these are some of hers.”

Not rushing but not taking it slow either, Yennefer marched to her door, took a moment to compose herself before opening it.

“Good evening ma’am,” one of the officers said, briefly flashing a badge. “We’re here because we’ve been alerted to the possible presence of a dangerous and disturbed man who was last seen entering your premises. May we come in.”

“No.” Yennefer had her hand on the door, ready to slam it shut if the two tried anything. The flash of the badge, the ambulance, the press, it all felt like an elaborately staged set-up. “I’ll need to see warrants before you can do anything like that.” There was a foot in her doorway which was making her nervous. Then again, she had no doubt that Lambert and Eskel could handle a brawl if it came to it. Plus, she and Triss could do some serious damage too.

The false smile sent her way did nothing to reassure her. Nor did the words that followed it. “This is for your own safety, ma’am. Please let us do our job and help us keep you safe.”

“I said no.” Her voice was loud enough to carry and the paparazzi pushed a little closer to get a better angle, smelling the drama about to unfold in the air. It didn’t come in the form they probably anticipated. Three police cars pulled up, blocking in both the unmarked police car and the private ambulance. Uniformed officers stepped out of the vehicles, followed by a couple in civilian clothes.

Approaching, the woman in smart casual clothes took the lead. “What seems to be the problem here?”

Yennefer watched as the two “officers” shifted nervously in the face of real police. She had to hide a smile before throwing them under the metaphorical bus.

“These two gentlemen are demanding entry to my home in order to remove a client of mine from a meeting we’re in. I didn’t get a good look at their badges when they showed them, Captain.”

She took utter delight in watching the two pale as they looked at the Captain. Yennefer loved working with Triss, between them they always got the result they wanted, knew all the right people when they needed something.

“I see. Well, why don’t my boys take you down to the station to look at your badges and run them through the system. I’m sure it’s just been a miscommunication though. And take the ambulance too. We’ll want to question the paramedics for sure.”

Springing into action, the men were taken away and Yennefer stepped aside to allow Renfri to step in. “Thank you for coming.”

“I heard there was a chance to fuck Nilfgaard over. Of course I was going to pay a personal visit!”

Leading Renfri into the house, introductions were made in short order. It took a lot of effort not to just point and call the four idiots Trouble 1, 2, 3, and 4. However, Yennefer resisted. In turn, she got to watch as Renfri walked up to Cahir.

“You’re the one giving Nilfgaard a hard time?”

“Not on purpose.” There was a hint of defensiveness in Cahir’s voice. He definitely wasn’t expecting to be clapped heartily on the shoulder with an approving nod.

“Well, fuck them up. I want to see them burned to the ground.” That brought up so many questions and Yennefer got to witness the story unfold and the reactions it garnered. “One of their talent scouts, Stregobor - nasty piece of work - he put an end to my ballet aspirations before I could ever even try to achieve anything. Told my tutor I was a waste of resources and would never make it anywhere. So I got dropped from bigger roles in productions. He took all the joy out of my passion.”

So now, Renfri was determined to try and put an end to Nilfgaard. She often liked to tell Yennefer how, in a way, Stregobor’s cruelty had helped her dodge a bullet. But knowing that wasn’t enough to mean she would move on. No, Renfri wanted revenge as well as the burning desire to end the insidious way in which Nilfgaard operated. It was part of the reason why she fought so hard for the board to investigate systemic and organisational abuse. The path had been laid and it seemed Nilfgaard was finally marching up it.

With the immediate crisis averted, it was a question of finding out how Emhyr had known where Cahir would be. That was something the paramedics and fake officers could potentially help with. One thing was for certain. It wasn’t safe for Cahir to leave the house. Yennefer and Renfri agreed that Nilfgaard wasn’t above snatching their ‘property’ off the streets. So Yennefer ended up with a reluctant house guest.

“They tried to paint it so the public would believe you had a mental breakdown and needed Nilfgaard’s tender care to get better,” Triss said over a slice of pizza. “They failed and they’re now also in trouble for impersonating the police and intimidation. It’s not a good look for them.”

At least there was now a hook on which a case could be built. No doubt there was going to be more in the way of issues and Nilfgaard’s sneaky attempts but they could handle those as they came. Nobody quite expected the next incident to be so soon though. Not three days later, another car pulled up outside the house and a woman stepped out. It wasn’t someone Yennefer was familiar with. However, Cahir let out a breathy “Fringilla” before he was tearing to the front door.

“Don’t go out!” Yennefer yelled after him. Thankfully he listened and stopped just short of the yanked open door, staring at Fringilla with hope.

“Cahir!” Fringilla approached, staying within reaching distance of the car. She wore a dress and cloak that had even Yennefer jealous. It was definitely a statement, a reminder to Cahir of all he was turning his back on. “Why won’t you come home?”

This was worse than the fake police. That was something Yennefer could deal with, the law was on her side. But this? The emotional manipulation was deeply unfair and she was helpless to do anything. It wasn’t like she could sling Cahir over her shoulder and walk him away. 

“There’s life outside of Nilfgaard.” As she listened, Yennefer was surprised by how sad and soft Cahir’s voice was. “A gilded cage is still a prison. And I can’t go back to that.”

“They want to partner me with Istredd. You know how much I don’t trust his lifts. Please Cahir, don’t abandon me. I want my dance partner back.”

Some fights Yennefer couldn’t get involved with and this was one of those. Cahir had to make his own decision, choose to keep away from Nilfgaard even when they played dirty like this. Even worse, there were a few cameras less than subtly lingering and taking pictures. She stepped closer to Cahir even as he went beyond the door. From where she stood, Yennefer could just about see the unshed tears.

“Don’t do this to me Frin. Don’t make me choose like this.” His arms were half open in invitation and Yennefer almost lurched to shove him out of the way when Fringilla took a few brisk steps and hugged him tight, eyes squeezed shut. The shutters of the camera were going crazy as they got bold and crept closer. Cahir was talking lowly, face hidden against Fringilla. Finally they broke apart and Cahir stepped back into the house, looking at his friend. By contrast, Fringilla looked at the cameras then back at the car. Not in a thousand years could Yennefer have predicted that she would pull herself to her full height and, with as much dignity as she could, she marched into the house, turned, stared hard at the car and closed the door.

Instantly Cahir was back by her side and pulling her into a hug with a breathless laugh. “Thank you. Thank you! You won’t regret this, I promise.”

That was how Yennefer found herself with two key witnesses against Nilfgaard rather than the one. Of course the tabloids were eating it up. Pictures of Cahir and Fringilla hugging were plastered all over the news with comments about the rebel of Nilfgaard corrupting his innocent dance partner. There were theories about what Cahir could have said, what he blackmailed Fringilla with. He was made out to be quite the devil all of a sudden. In short, Nilfgaard was pissed and taking revenge in any way they could.

The part of any case that Yennefer enjoyed the most was, without a doubt, slotting together the pieces of evidence, hunting down the witnesses and putting together an ironclad case. In a way Nilfgaard made it horribly easy by turfing out their biggest star to scare him into submission. With Cahir and Fringilla willing to give evidence, along with a slew of others that Nilfgaard had silenced, Yennefer was relatively confident in having a solid case. That confidence turned into certainty the deeper she dug.

“You have a very good credit score,” she said to Cahir over dinner.

He cocked his head in polite confusion. “Thank you?”

“You have no idea what a credit score is, do you?” The head shake was very much expected. “It means you’ve taken out loans or have a credit card and paid them back in good time.”

Yennefer got a front row seat to Cahir’s confusion playing out across his face. “But I’ve never done any of that?”

Leafing through the papers in front of her, Yennefer hummed. “I’m guessing you also don’t know about the mortgage and the couple of houses in your name.”

“The what?!” Cahir rudely pulled the papers in front of himself and rapidly flicked through them. He looked up at Yennefer. “What the fuck? How is this possible?”

Fringilla snatched it and her eyes grew wide as she read of the papers while Yennefer sat back with a grim, humourless smile. “It means Nilfgaard are suddenly in so much deeper shit.”

The case was coming together. Funnily enough, the most difficult thing to do was get hold of a copy of Cahir’s contract. It took two weeks and a very firmly worded letter from Triss before a copy was sent over. Scanning it, it had obviously been written by several very well versed lawyers and was quite ironclad, even the part about investing in Cahir’s name was legal. However, some of the things Cahir had told them, along with Fringilla’s own stories did put the contract in quite a negative light. It tipped from a very strict contract over into something much more sinister. More witnesses started coming forward, speaking out about Nilfgaard’s treatment of them, either as dancers or contractors brought in for various services. It was all snowballing and the media was chomping at the bits, salivating over every scrap of information they could glean.

Triss was the one to set things into motion, filing a case with the courts. She and Yennefer had worked long hours together, Renfri chipped in too, helping track down witnesses. The first day of the case arrived far too soon. Arriving at the courtroom, they were shown to a side room to get settled. Cahir was visibly nervous, tugging at the sleeve of his suit. The other three were with him, there to provide support as well as a surprisingly menacing protection against all the cameras and microphones the press tried to shove in Cahir’s face. The door opened and someone new stepped in.

“Zoltan?” Cahir smiled and leaned in to hug the new arrival. “It’s been years, how are you?”

Yennefer heard a choked off “that’s Zoltan?” from Lambert but she ignored him, stepping up beside Cahir. “Nice to meet you again, thank you for coming to provide a testimony.”

“Anything to get those bastards taken down. They almost got me thrown in prison!”

Turning, Cahir made quick introductions and grinned a little shyly as Zoltan smacked his leg jovially at the news that he had somehow bagged himself three boyfriends. “Always knew you were a smoothtalker.”

“You were the one to teach me.”

The mood in the room dipped considerably as the trial opened. Eskel, Lambert and Aiden were shown to seats in the courtroom while everyone else took their places. First witness to the stand was Cahir and Yennefer led him through his whole life story, how he was sold to Nilfgaard at the age of nine, though the paperwork only spoke of guarantorship without any mention of the exchange of land and swine. The years with Nilfgaard, the struggles including learning the language, reading and writing, the constant threat of being cut loose if he didn’t get a role or fell short of extremely high standards. Most uncomfortable was perhaps listening to Cahir talk about sex, the restrictions Nilfgaard had put in place and the sanctioned prostitutes it provided for dancers.

By contrast, Nilfgaard’s lawyers had Cahir talking about how Nilfgaard provided for him, how he never had to worry about things like bills, travel, food or anything else. It sounded like a cushy life until, almost innocently, Cahir had asked whether he had a passport because he had never seen it. The discussion about how he travelled abroad for shows did not end well for Nilfgaard, despite their attempts to show that their handling of all aspects of travel was done out of care. Given the fact Cahir had no idea what his passport looked like or that he could ask for it was a glaringly large issue. One that Yennefer capitulated on when questioning Fringilla. She didn’t have access to her passport either and her story reflected a lot of Cahir’s. The only difference was the restrictions on sex really.

After Fringilla, Zoltan took to the stand, giving his own account of working for Nilfgaard as a prostitute. He was matter of fact about it, didn’t dwell on the details until the last minute.

“I was dismissed from service for teaching a dancer to read and write. That was not my role according to Nilfgaard. This is despite only being paid for my time and not specific services to keep it all legal. The contract only stipulated sexual situations I could not partake in. When my client of the night wasn’t in the mood for sex, I was always happy to offer alternate activities to help relax.”

Nilfgaard’s lawyer gave him a bit of a hard time, contesting the reason Zoltan was dismissed.

“It says on our files you were released from service for breaching our rules on permitted sexual activities. Did you or did you not manually massage one of our dancer’s prostates?”

“I did.”

“Which, as seen in Exhibit 42a, breaks contract and is within the rights of the employer to dissolve the contract with immediate effect. No more questions.”

It went on like that. Dancer after cleaner after cook, they took to the stand, talking about how Nilfgaard controlled and suppressed them after dismissal. The illegal non-disclosure agreements, the pressure and fear exerted over them, how jobs were difficult to find in the area as they seemed to be blacklisted.

Finally, Emhyr himself was called forth as a witness.

“Nilfgaard has always believed in creating a family where talent was the focus of the individuals. Those who could, were enabled to follow a path to reach their true potential while others supported them in any way possible.” He looked over to the judge. “We provided a home, gave security, a litestyle many would be jealous of. We made sure our dancers never had a need for anything. Their health and well-being was our top priority, anything anyone asked for they got, no matter the cost.”

It was a sickening display of false humility. Yennefer fought not to roll her eyes and Triss kicked her ankle under the table. However, even she couldn’t hold back her huff at Emhyr’s parting shot.

“After all we’ve done for you-” He looked Cahir dead in the eyes. “-this is how you pay us back.”

Rising from her seat, Yennefer smiled viciously, smoothing down her dress. It was her turn.

“I want to ask you about the termination of Cahir’s contract.”

“It was never terminated.” Emhyr sat up straight. “You had a copy of it sent over, you’ll have seen it was not terminated despite his unsanctioned jaunt and desertion of his duties.”

“Quite,” Yennefer sniffed. “So when he talks about watching you tear up his contract because he wanted to move an hour’s training to later on in the day, so his friend and dance partner could talk to her aunt, what is he talking about?”

A low, evil smirk spread over Emhyr’s lips. “A desperate man trying to get out of taking responsibility for his wrong doing.”

“And the private security outfitted like police, along with the paramedics who came to collect, in their words, “a disturbed and dangerous man” and were looking to take him away?”

“When he ignored Nilfgaard’s offer of reconciliation, we grew worried. It was most out of character for him. We employ our own security team to help sort our affairs, the police department is already overrun and these kinds of issues are ones we can handle ourselves.”

Humming, Yennefer nodded. “And when you sent Fringilla to guilt him into returning?”

“That was under her own steam, she asked for a car and Nilfgaard provided. We didn’t check to see what she was doing.”

“That is not how she told her side of the story.”

It went on like that, Emhyr painting a very different picture with the same facts that Cahir and the others used to portray the way they saw their lives.

“No further questions Your Honour,” Yennefer said and sat down at long last. All that was left were the closing statements from the two sides before deliberation began. With nothing left to do but wait, Yennefer and Triss returned to the side room with Cahir and the other witnesses. The tension made her skin itch.

“What if Nilfgaard was right all along?” Cahir worried his lip with his teeth. “What if I read the situation horribly wrong?”

“That won’t happen.” Triss rubbed his back reassuringly. “They are foul, awful people. They’ll get what is coming. It might just take a couple of hours, we’re almost through.”

Summons to return came a lot sooner. The judge seemed more serious and tense than before. “Be seated,” he told the court. “Both sides have provided a very compelling yet opposing perspective of the facts. Nilfgaard maintains it is there to provide a safe, secure environment for dancers to reach their potential. While Cahir and the other witnesses give a very different account of a controlling, exploitative organisation that preys on children, raising them so they don’t know any better than to rely on Nilfgaard. I have reviewed the facts myself and was deliberating them when something happened that swung my decision. We have, on security tape and microphone, an attempted bribery by Nilfgaard. I hereby find Nilfgaard guilty of the charges.”

A cheer erupted in the courtroom. Cahir hugged Friniglla tightly, casting a tearful look at his boyfriends who sat a few rows back. They had done it. The rest of the ruling was a bit of a blur, even for Yennefer but, after everything settled, she picked apart the ruling with Cahir.

“The houses and investments made in your name are legally yours. Having looked over the finances, you can keep them, the rent from the properties more than enough to finish paying the mortgages.” It was a relief in a way, Cahir had a more stable foundation now with a source of income. The fact Aiden had offered for Cahir to move in with him was a bonus.

Nilfgaard, as it was, stood to be dismantled, Emhyr and his cronies faced a long jail sentence. There was no leadership, investors were backpedalling away from it.

“What will happen to everyone there?” Cahir asked.

“We don’t know yet. If a new investor wants to get involved, there will be a restructure, new contracts and probably a rebranding. If not-” Yennefer shook her head, “a lot of people are going to be in trouble.”

Knowing what she did of Cahir, she had no doubt that he would be fretting over the fate of the others. Sure enough, he came to her a few days later.

“If I sell the houses, would it be enough to buy Nilfgaard?”

“No by yourself. You can buy it but you won’t be able to run it without investors.” She didn’t know how to break the news to him. “And it looks like someone has already snapped it up.”

Cahir’s face fell at that. It was obviously not something he wanted to hear. However, Yennefer had an ace up her sleeve. “I can introduce you to the new owners. See if there’s some kind of partnership to be had. Why don’t I set up a meeting, I’ll drive you over at 7pm tomorrow.”

With that settled, all Yennefer had to do was wait. At 6:30 the next evening Cahir got out of a taxi, looking nervous, dressed in slacks and a shirt - no doubt dressed by Eskel, possibly Aiden.

“Come on, it’s not too far to drive.”

She drove them around town for a bit, trying to waste time before taking an all too familiar road. Pulling up outside Jaskier’s, she urged him out.

“Go on.”

“But-” She cut him off by giving him a gentle shove towards the door which opened to a cacophony of ‘surprise’ yelled by several voices. “I don’t understand.”

Jaskier stepped forward and hugged Cahir. “We bought Nilfgaard. Or, should I say, Kaer Morhen Academy. It just so happens, it needs an instructor. I don’t suppose you know any ballet dancers who might be interested?”

Jaw slack, Cahir looked at everyone gathered around. Yennefer stared with him, taking in the soft smile from Vesemir, Geralt leaning against the wall, Lambert, Eskel and Aiden clamouring to get close without shoving Jaskier out of the way. It was most definitely unconventional but it was a family that stood before her. And she was proud to have helped them.

**Author's Note:**

> More bumblings on tumblr @jaskiersvalley


End file.
